Movie review: ‘Damsel’ slyly skews gender stereotypes

By Al Alexander/For the Patriot Ledger

Friday

Jun 29, 2018 at 3:01 AMJul 1, 2018 at 1:10 PM

The most striking element in “Damsel,” David and Nathan Zellner’s follow-up to their indie hit, “Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter,” is its resistance to be categorized; springing a tantalizing string of surprises – some joyous, some groan-worthy. It also thrives on superior contributions from Robert Pattinson and Mia Wasikowska as funky frontiers people trekking through a postmodern Old West in which the Zellners toy with expectations by slyly skewing gender stereotypes.

It’s John Wayne be damned, as Wasikowska’s Penelope refuses to suffer a handful of nitwit cowboys and Indians itching to dominate her. That she always gains the upper hand is the root of the film’s pleasures. Holding it back is a misguided desire by the Zellners’ to be clever in attempting to emulate the ironic musings of the brothers Coen and the twee leanings of Wes Anderson. Add to that the occasional shout out to Mel Brooks’ “Blazing Saddles” and you’ve got a movie lost in its almost Freudian preoccupation with cute.

Even though it fails to satisfy as a whole, “Damsel” thrives on its inventiveness in a handful of jolting scenes noteworthy for their sudden shifts in tone and perspective. Some might find the abruptness disconcerting, but I can’t help admiring the brothers’ daring attitude, even though their success rate is marginal at best. It’s a step back from “Kumiko,” one of my favorite films of 2015, which told a similarly quirky scenario about a feminist following her heart while poo-pooing chauvinists who stupidly think they know better. But where “Kumiko” felt like a complete story, “Damsel” is too disjointed and episodic to coalesce.

Heck, except for a few shots of Pattinson and his leading lady dancing under the opening credits, Wasikowska doesn’t even check in until the halfway point. By then, we’re fully invested in Pattinson’s lovesick Samuel Alabaster, an Easterner landing on the Oregon shore in a dinghy. See, I told you this movie is offbeat. It gets even weirder when Sam unloads a crate containing a miniature horse. Intrigued? I was, especially when the Zellners provide us an image of Sam walking into a dirt water -- shot from behind Sergio Leone style -- toting a rifle, a guitar and a leash tethered to the adorable mini-equine, Butterscotch.

Sam, sporting a gold tooth, dapper duds and a polite, genial Southern accent, is looking for a man named Parson Henry (David Zellner, excellent), a disillusioned drunk we meet in the pre-credits sharing a bench with an even more discouraged pastor (Robert Forester in a quick, memorable bit) waiting for a stage back East. After their talk turns to the godlessness of the West, the preacher impetuously doffs his clothes and bequeaths them to Henry, along with his battered Bible. Henry is going to need that bit of old-time religion regalia because Sam has plans for the drunken insta-cleric; lassoing him into following him deep into the wild where Sam believes Penelope is being held hostage. Ideally, once she’s found, Henry is to marry the merry couple on the spot. Or, at least that’s the scheme.

These early scenes are easily the film’s best, as Zellner and Pattinson make for engaging traveling companions, with Sam regaling Henry with his effusive feelings for Penelope, a woman he’s so smitten with he’s written her a song, “Honeybun.” He humorously sings it (think “Smelly Cat” from “Friends”) to his one-man “posse” while sitting around the campfire. You half expect the duo to break out in a chorus of flatulence, ala “Blazing Saddles.” Luckily, they don’t, but this is where the movie stops being a gas, evolving into something much darker and just a wee bit unstable.

It’s also here where the Zellners make what I like to call a handoff, where one main character, in this case Sam, is spelled by another, which would be Penelope. The best example of this switcheroo would be “Psycho,” where Janet Leigh passed the baton to Vera Miles. Why Pattinson departs and Wasikowska steps in alongside the always jittery Henry is best left under wraps. Just know it signals a major change in direction requiring more than a little acclimation. But Wasikowska renders Penelope so charmingly tough and dominant it’s only a matter of time before we forget all about her “fiancé.”

Voilà, what started out as a sendup of machismo is violently twisted around into a feminist uprising that takes no prisoners -- other than Henry -- and does it rousingly. But not without robbing much of the story’s sprightly momentum. It’s still fun, but not nearly as fun as when Pattinson was the chief jokemaster. Still, Wasikowska earns kudos for instigating the funniest moment by chucking a rock at David Zellner’s Henry -- and doing so with pinpoint aim. Zellner’s younger, bigger sibling, Nathan, also contributes a few zings as the doltish brother of the man Sam believes to be Penelope’s captor. And it would be unfair not to mention the late Joe Billingiere, who recently passed away, stealing scenes as a deep-thinking Apache perplexed by the idiocy of the paleface.

I also would be remiss in not mentioning the gorgeous cinematography by Adam Stone (“Take Shelter”), who frames the nuttiness of the humans inside fabulous landscapes shot in the bucolic environs of Oregon and Utah. At times, “Damsel” is so beautiful it takes your breath away. I wish I could say the same for the story. You know your movie is lacking when Butterscotch is your most memorable creature, human or beast. But I can’t say I wasn’t fascinated by the Zellners’ complete and utter debasement of the male myth. The men here, for the most part, or either grotesque, whiney or spineless. And the one who isn’t, ends up with a bullet in the back of the head -- while he’s peeing. Yes, dignity has no place in this home on the range. The deer and antelope may play, but it’s the woman who slays.